Echoes On The Pavement
by KiteDancer
Summary: My father hadn't always been like this. There had been a time, long ago, when he would come home smiling, no beer bottle in his hand, no poor drunken girl hanging off his arm. Oneshot. Rated T for abuse.


**Another oneshot, this time from Mitchie's point of view. It's quite gruesome, reading over it. :p I hope you - er - enjoy it ^^ If that's the right sentiment.**

Echoes On The Pavement

The blows landed on my neck, my shoulders, my back as I screamed out again and again, the harsh sound tearing through the dark silence of the night. My father stood over me where I lay curled up on the rug, blood staining its cream wool. More pain came, racking my body. I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. He slammed his foot down hard on my side and I heard the 'snap' as my rib cracked. An agonizing, torturing wave of pain washed over me, lapping at my vision, blurring the edges. My breath came in gasps, rattling through my broken body. The darkness beckoned and I longed to follow it, to fall into its soothing embrace. My mother cried out, one hand outstretched to my fragile form. He turned on her angrily, spit flecking the corner of his mouth, eyes glinting. The kicks landed on her now, sending her crashing to the floor, her head knocking against the wooden banister with an ominous thud. Her eyes rolled back in her head, revealing glistening blank whites. He hit her again, knuckles bloody and torn. I let a silent tear trickle down my bruised face, feeling it fall over the lumps and scars.

My father hadn't always been like this. There had been a time, long ago, when he would come home smiling, no beer bottle in his hand, no poor drunken girl hanging off his arm. A time when he had hugged me, kissed me, tucked me into bed with stories and tales of magical lands and legends far away from our world. That was the time I dreamt of every night when my battered, worn body finally hit the mattress. Those were the times that had faded, had morphed into wistful fantasies of the past. More tears fell, shimmering feebly in the dim light. What had happened to the man I had used to call my father? He wasn't my father anymore. He was some strange, unknown man who had appeared in place of him. My father had died a long time ago, vanished into the land of sweet memories. This man wasn't my father. Not anymore.

My mother's cries grew weaker and I raised my head in alarm. Blood. So much blood. Too much blood. I scrambled over to her, ignoring my father's mis-aimed kicks, brushing her copper hair away from her face, the exact same shade as mine, copper hair wet with scarlet blood. Her eyelids fluttered, her pulse began to slow.

"No, mum. Mum, come on"

She attempted a weak smile.

"Mum, look at me. Mum! Mum! Look at me, please!"

"Mitchie, sweetheart..."

"Mum! No! Don't leave me here! Look at me!"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I was useless as a mother. I'm sorry"

Her voice cracked twice.

I clutched at her thin hand frantically, suddenly realising how much the bones stood out.

"Mum! Don't leave me, please don't leave me alone! Please! Don't leave me!"

"Mitchie. Never forget that I love you so much. Never forget that. I love you, and will always love you. Never forget..."

Her heart thudded once, twice, stuttered, stopped.

"Mummy, no, don't leave me, please don't leave me here. I need you, I love you, please"

My voice trailed off into sobs as I clutched the broken, worn body of my mother to my chest. My tears fell onto her clothes, staining them a dark black. I looked up at the man I hated most in the world, getting to my feet slowly, anger clouding my mind. He stood, frozen, a horrified expression fixed onto his face.

"You. You killed her. You killed your own wife!"

I screamed at him, droplets of water running freely down my cheeks. I didn't care any more. I just didn't care, He took a step back, shaking his head with a hopeless conviction.

"No. No. I didn't kill her"

"You killed her! You're meant to protect her, to care for her, not kill her!"

His voice grew frantic, eyes wild.

"No. I never meant to. Oh God, Connie. I never meant to!"

I stared at him, my hazel eyes burning with rage.

"Bit late for that now, isn't it?" I spat, voice thick and choked.

"Get out. Get out. Don't ever come back. Get out!"

He turned and fled, slamming the door behind him. I dropped to my knees, listening to his footsteps as they echoed on the pavement. He was gone. Finally, truly gone. But my mother was dead. I let my head drop on the carpet, tear tracks marking my face. There was nothing left in my body to cry. The familiar shadows called, luring me in, enfolding me in its black codolences. The pain reared over me, pulling me under. I didn't resurface.

**So, no happy ending here ^^ Poor little Mitchie. Ah well. Please R + R! Oh - and for anyone who has read Starless Nights, there is a poll on my page about making a sequel - I need your votes!**


End file.
